Shimmering back contrast to the bright wanna-be yours light in black with white polka dots on the porch. Your big gypsy nose knows me—knew I like limes & sand & younger men. This brought me back: daydreaming, scheming, changing, playing/destroying the game & creating my own time machine/craft (by imagination alone) so not to have my face melt off due to exposure (possible fire) &/or spinning too fast. I can handle torture (I imagine it), the pain is only in my body—thanks for the reminder. I will be shooting for the purple crown on the way out so not to come back to this earthly realm ever again. This is my last time around. That smile made me feel the decay happening from the inside. Teeth gleaming through the mask, the bones all I could see & the possibility that I had failed in showing them off. Too white, too flossed—so fresh & so clean, clean. Too pristine. Me a sheep & in her. I even thought of mythological beasties. One of the bones that made up the smile. I gave it all away.